Honeysuckle Homicide (Trash-to-Treasure Crafting Mystery) by Rose Pressey Page B

than in Claire Ann’s sedan. So after grabbing my purse, I headed out to pick up Claire Ann. Charity had left just a few minutes before I had. She hadn’t mentioned anything about the case as she’d snatched a cinnamon muffin from the basket on the counter. I was curious what Ross had told her. He hadn’t called me since that first day. I was thankful for that, but also highly suspicious. Silence wasn’t necessarily a good thing where he was involved.
    Claire Ann was standing outside her house when I pulled up. She lived in a townhouse a couple miles away. Claire Ann had the best taste in décor , with trendy clean lines and pops of color. She made it seem effortless.
    “Let’s find some bargains,” she said as she hopped in.
    She wore denim shorts and a teal-colored t-shirt with pristine white sneakers. At least Claire Ann was prepared for walking. Usually she picked the most uncomfortable shoes. She was finally learning the ins and outs of thrift shopping. We would make a day of the shopping and stop in the afternoon for lunch. I was looking forward to trying the new café again.
    Claire Ann pulled out the newspaper. “I marked the ones I think look like they have potential. We’ll start on Porters Street.”
    I navigated a turn. “Remember when we were little and my mom would take us to yard sales? She’d try to read the map while driving.”
    Claire Ann laughed. “I’m shocked that we didn’t crash.”
    “She was a serious bargain-hunter,” I said.
    “I guess that’s where you get the talent from,” Claire Ann said.
    We made a few stops, but so far hadn’t found much. Claire Ann had bought a dark blue blouse and I’d purchased a white plate to go with my collection of dishes. I’d spent a whole quarter so far. After that we drove by a few more yard sales. It wasn’t necessary to stop if we could see from the road that they didn’t have anything we needed.
    The next stop looked as if it had potential though with a few pieces of furniture and other household items. I scored a spot close to the house when another shopper pulled away. That was always an added bonus.
    Claire Ann and I hopped out. We liked to spread out so we could cover the sale faster. We both knew what the other one was looking for. I’d spotted a cute little end table sitting all alone in the yard away from the other stuff and decided to take a closer look. I maneuvered around a few people. As I reached down to examine it closer, I felt someone standing behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw the woman who had been outside Luke’s office the day of his murder.
    “Oh, hello. Connie Dayton, right?” I asked.
    I was surprised that I’d remembered her name because I was usually forgetful. But I’d made a point lately of trying to remember people’s names.
    She smiled. “Yes, how are you, Raelynn?”
    Apparently she’d made it a point to remember my name as well.
    “It’s a great d ay for a yard sale,” I said as I stood.
    “A lovely day,” she said as she peered up at the blue sky.
    There was an awkward pause and I tried to think of a way to get out of there. She was cutting into my yard sale time. Not that I wanted to be rude, but the bargains were calling my name.
    Finally she broke the silence, and said, “I s aw you stop in Darcy Parish’s office. Are you thinking of using her to sell your home? I wouldn’t recommend that.”
    That was odd. I hadn’t realized that anyone had been around to see me go in there. Like my mother always said, “Someone can always see you , so be on your best behavior.” Meaning don’t pull at my bra straps or underwear in public and such, but I digress.
    “Oh, well, I haven’t made a decision really. J ust toying with the idea,” I said.
    “I suppose you spoke with Julian?” Connie asked.
    “Yes, I spoke with her since Darcy wasn’t in the office.”
    “You know Julian was dating Luke.” She looked around as if someone might be listening. It seemed as if Connie just